The Film
by Snicker Puff
Summary: Mark shows Angel the film. This goes along with Down Once More, Untitled and Hiding. You should really read those before you read this, or it won't make much sense


Collins and Angel sat on the old sofa at the loft. It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, and, with nothing else to do, the pair had decided to spend the day with Mark, Roger and Mimi. The room was quiet, Collins reading the newspaper while Angel lay with her feet in his lap, her head resting on Mimi's legs, who was currently distracted from their conversation by a kiss from Roger. The only sound in the room came from the corner, where Mark was busy sorting and re-sorting his film, cases rattling as he moved them.

After a moment, sensing that Mimi would not be turning her attention back to their conversation any time soon, Angel sat up and shifted her position so that she was leaning with her head on Collins' chest. She pushed the newspaper away, grinning up at him, and he smiled down at her.

"Hey," he said softly, tossing the paper onto the coffee table and pulling Angel into his lap.

"Hey," she replied, crinkling her nose at him and tilting her head up for a kiss.

"Oh shit!"

The couple jumped slightly, both heads turning to face the source of the outburst. Mark was sitting in the corner, staring at one of his reels of film. He had a crooked grin on his face, and after a few seconds, he turned to look at them.

"What, Mark?" Roger demanded, irritated at the interruption.

"Shit!" Mark repeated, laughing now. He sprang to his feet, film in hand, and hurried over to his projector, wheeling it into the middle of the room and aiming it at the wall. Waving the reel around, he asked, with barely contained excitement, "Do you guys remember this?"

Roger rolled his eyes, "Remember _what_, Mark?"

Mark didn't answer, he was too intent on loading the projector. He continued to grin widely, and once he had finished, he turned his gaze to Angel. "You're gonna love this!"

Angel's brow furrowed and she looked up at Collins. "Do you have any idea what he's talking about, honey?" she asked. Collins just chuckled.

"No, baby," he replied, placing a small kiss on her forehead, "Let's just play along and see what happens," he added with a wink. He pulled Angel closer to him, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist.

The footage was shaky at first, and it was hard to determine who the subjects were. Soon, though, Collins and Roger came in to view. Roger was laughing, his arm around Collins' shoulder, and Collins stood glaring at the camera. After a moment, Mark's voice could be heard saying, "Close on Tom Collins, who's just been beat up by a girl!"

Angel giggled as the camera zoomed in on her lover, as he flipped Mark off and stormed out of the room. She opened her mouth to tease him when she felt him tense, arms tightening their grip on her waist. Shifting in his arms so she could look at him, her smile immediately faded. Collins' jaw was set and he was staring, stone-faced, at the images dancing across the wall.

Beside her, Mimi and Roger were laughing loudly. "I completely forgot about that!" Roger exclaimed, as he listened to his own voice telling the story of how Collins had been attacked with a purse by a tiny woman in broad daylight. Across the room, Mark, though not outwardly laughing, was grinning broadly as he watched.

Roger reached over and shoved Collins' arm. "Hey man," he teased, "Why'd you let us forget about it?"

Collins' face broke into a grin and he replied, "Just wanted some peace, man." To anyone other than Angel, he sounded like he was enjoying the ribbing. Angel, however, knew him too well. She could see that he was forcing himself to be cheerful, could hear the slight tremble in his voice, feel his fingers digging into her sides.

"You should have seen him, Mimi," Roger was saying through his laughter, "He hid in his room for hours! He was so embarrassed. It was great! I can't believe we forgot about it!"

Angel cringed inwardly as Collins forced a chuckle at Roger's comment. She needed to get him out of there. She didn't know why he was so upset, but she had a pretty good guess, and her mind flashed back to that night, only a few weeks before, when Collins had told her about his attack.

Standing abruptly, Angel grabbed Collins' hands, trying to pull him off the couch. "I think I'm ready to go home," she said, quickly, "How 'bout you, honey?"

Collins stood, stiffly, eyes locked on Angel. "Yeah, baby, I think so," he said, lightly, and Angel could see the gratitude in his eyes that shone through his façade. He turned back toward their friends, saying, "It's been fun reminiscing with you, but I think we're gonna head out now."

Collins gripped Angel's hand tightly as they left the loft, ignoring the hoots and taunts coming from Mark and Roger, smiling the whole way. He led them swiftly down the stairs and out onto the street, the rain quickly soaking their clothes. Angel watched him out of the corner of her eye as they walked, but didn't say anything. She would wait until they got home, until she got him settled.

Once inside their apartment, Collins crumpled. He turned to Angel, wrapping his arms around her and leaning into her. Angel merely led him into their bedroom, guiding him to the bed and gently sitting him down.

"Let's get these wet clothes off you," she said softly. Collins nodded, but didn't move as Angel pulled off his shirts. Pushing lightly against his chest, she made him lay down and quickly unbuttoned his pants, peeling them off, along with his boxers. Collins lay there, naked, just staring at her as she, too, stripped off her wet clothes. Moving to lay beside him, Angel pulled the warm comforter up over them, wrapping her arms around her lover and holding him close.

After a long silence, with Angel stroking his face, looking into his eyes and trying to surround him with the love she felt for him, to make him feel safe, Collins spoke.

"That's what I told them." His voice was barely above a whisper. "I came home and Roger was bugging me and I didn't know what to tell him… and that's what came out." Collins sighed helplessly.

Angel nodded, leaning forward to kiss him gently. "I understand why you would," she admitted softly.

"You do?"

"Of course I do, honey," she told him, "We all have things we're ashamed of, that we don't want anyone to know about." Angel paused, looking deeply into his eyes. "But you shouldn't be ashamed of this, Tom."

Collins just looked at her blankly. How could he _not_ be ashamed? He hadn't even been able to defend himself! He'd just let them… let them… He couldn't even finish the thought.

"Hey," Angel said firmly, "It wasn't your fault. You did everything you could. Collins," she took his face in her hands, "What more can you ask of yourself?"

She was right. Collins knew she was right, just as she always was. He felt the knot in his stomach loosen, just a little.

"I guess," he conceded, watching her carefully.

"Collins, honey," Angel began again, placing a small kiss on his lips, "It's okay if you don't want to tell them. That's your choice, and I respect that. But I won't have you being ashamed of yourself. You have no reason to be." She kissed him again before continuing quietly, "_I'm_ not ashamed of you."

Collins blinked, surprised by her statement. "You're… not?"

Angel sighed, "Collins, I love you, you know that, but you can really be thick sometimes," she teased, grinning and tapping him on the nose.

Collins' face twisted with confusion, but her expression brought a smirk to his face. "Is that so?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yes it is," she retorted, grin widening. "We all love you, and something like this isn't going to change that. They're your friends, Tom. You know they're always here for you. And you know they'd feel terrible if they knew what had really happened. Poor Markie would kick himself for weeks for laughing at your story."

Angel was right again. Collins chuckled as he imagined how repentant Mark would be. He'd never looked at the situation from that point of view before. "He'd probably burn the film," he agreed.

Angel giggled. "You're right. But you do have to admit," she teased, poking his stomach gently, "You getting beat up by a girl _does_ make for an interesting mental picture."

Collins pretended to be shocked, only partially succeeding as a grin threatened to spread across his face. "I'll have you know, Miss Angel, she was a black-belt in kung-fu… or… something." He couldn't keep a straight face any longer and burst into laughter, wrapping his arms around Angel and pulling her flush against him.

"I'm sure she was," Angel replied, laughing along with him. She snuggled into his arms, stroking his bare chest, and added, "I love you, Collins."

Collins smiled at her, amazed as he always was at how she could make everything better. "I love you, too, my Angel," he whispered, capturing her mouth in a kiss. Breaking away to look into her eyes, he said, "Thanks for making it better."

Angel just smiled at him, eyes sparkling, and leaned in for another kiss.


End file.
